An Oscar to Steele
by SteeleHere44
Summary: Story 4. Remington Steele Investigations is involved in a case with a Hollywood touch.
1. Chapter 1

AN OSCAR TO STEELE

_Disclaimer: This story is purely for entertainment purposes. The author does not own the rights to these characters, and is not now, nor even has been affiliated in any way with Remington Steele, MTM, or NBC._

_Author's note: Set after season 4. Bonds of Steele never happened. _

Chapter1:

The week had been frantic. After closing the Dumont's case, they were enjoying a lovely weekend playing golf. The Los Angeles Country Club was a magnificent place, with a fantastic par 72 course. The club house was built in 1911, and it was one of the first Golf Clubs placed around Los Angeles. The restaurant was open to a terrace full of tables with their own umbrellas, and going down the stair there was a beautiful fountain that gave a fresh sensation to the place. It was surrounded by a wonderful course, 36 holes, ornamented by a beautiful park. On the right side of the club, there was a group of tennis courts, always occupied with stylish players and trainers working, trying to maintain a high level between the members of the institution. A hard task.

Mr. Steele had been watching the place from his office windows looking forward to having the chance to play there, since his first day as Remington Steele. They played their first match between them there, when the Marcall's case was closed. Mr. Marcall presented them as his permanent guests.

But the place had other pleasures for Mr. Steele, aside from the sport itself. Every great actor with style was a member of the club. The chance to meet a star from the big screen was high.

They started their game early, in the first line, to enjoy the fresh morning air without anybody ahead of them making the walk slow. Only one of them had this idea. In fact, the other one would have loved to start a little later. But if Laura was playing, the game would be faced early and with energy. When they arrived at the 16th green, Mr. Steele was starting to feel hungry, but not only for food. They were going to have lunch at the clubhouse, and he was in a hurry to get there in time. To be seated almost alone with Laura at the terrace, would give him the chance to watch for any star that might be there.

"Congratulations Laura! Your approach was splendid! Let's see your abilities with the putter." Then, he took the flag out of the hole, to leave enough room for Laura's ball to roll in. She did it with an accurate shot. There were only 2 holes left till the end of the game. Laura was winning by 2 shots. Certainly he would have to improve at the end of the match to at least equal her. They made a bet the day before: if she won, he would have to go with her to a tennis session after lunch. But if the winner was Mr. Steele, they were going to enjoy a romantic dinner at his place, in front of the fireplace, with some champagne to relax them after a strenuous day.

The play at the 17th hole was an advance for him. Laura was only one shot ahead at the start of the 18th hole. He was in a bit of a panic. He had to think of something. After two shots each one, they were on the green. If she sunk the ball, she was the winner, and he wouldn't be able to enjoy a romantic evening with her. Laura was far from the hole, so she had to make her shot first. She took the putter from the golf bag, and gave a threatening gaze to her opponent. Then she put her left hand in the back pocket of her pants, while making an analysis of her future shot. She noticed then that something was missing

"Oh, Damn, I lost my glove! Did you see where it dropped?" she asked him.

"Ahh, Miss Holt. Is this an excuse to delay your last shot? That's not good! I didn't see your glove dropping. Behave like a good player and end your game, you are not going to put my mind out of the play in these instances, " he answered with a triumphant smile.

"Ok, I'll do it Mr. Steele. It wasn't a way to distract you. I was only asking…" She played her shot, but at this point she was a little unfocused, and she missed the hole. He made his shot then, and voilá, they were tied for the game.

"Well, Miss Holt, it seems that we have to play tennis after lunch, and we have a date for dinner tonight as well. It's going to be a long day," he stated just relieved to be able to have his reward after an exhausting day. "Let's go to the restaurant to recover our strength for the next challenge," he said while arranging his things in his golf bag, and hiding the stolen glove in a better place.

They were reading their menus, sitting at a table with a great view of everything happening at the terrace. All the players were ending their rounds almost at the same time, and Mr. Steele was in heaven, searching for famous faces, and telling Miss Holt who was who in the place.

Once their orders were on the table, and the place was almost full of diners, they started to concentrate on their meals. But something caught Mr. Steele's attention. There was a man at the table behind them, who was talking with his friend about something related with the Academy Awards. Just when he was tuning his ears to catch the conversation, Laura asked him, "Are you going to eat everything you've ordered? You will not be able to run even one inch on the tennis court."

"Yes, I will." He answered shortly.

"Because if not, I would like to taste your salad. It looks delicious."

"Take the salad, Laura." He said giving her his dish, trying to end her conversation to get him free to listen to the voices behind him.

"I was not implying that I wanted _all _the salad, you know. I wanted only to try a bite or two." She returned him the plate. But seeing that he wasn't paying attention to her words, she asked him, "What's happening to you?"

"Shhh, Laura. I'm trying to listen to something important," he answered while he resumed eating from his plate.

"Are you spying on our table neighbors?!Are you insane? We are guests here! Mr. Marcall invited us! Behave yourself Mr. Steele."

But with her talking, he couldn't catch the end of the conversation. After taking a sip of wine, he put his napkin on the table, and turned himself to the man that was talking. "Excuse me Sir, but I couldn't avoid hearing what you were saying. Were you talking about the Academy Awards_, The_ Academy Awards?" He asked.

"Excuse me? Do I know you?" asked the man.

"I'm Remington Steele."

"_The_ Remington Steele?" asked the man smiling with excitement.

"The man in the flesh," he answered. "I see my reputation precedes me," he stated with a satisfied smile towards all the members of the table. Laura couldn't believe it. What was he doing?

"Come on, Mr. Steele. Have a seat with us! We are in the middle of a conversation about a subject that may interest you," said the man.

"Let me present you my associate, Laura Holt." He said making a gesture towards a bewildered Miss Holt, to join the members of the table.

"A pleasure Miss Holt, my name is Michael Fairbanks. I am the chairman at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, most known _as The Academy_. And these are my golf friends, Sean Collins, Peter O'Hara, Barry Porter, Dale Baxter, and Jerry Mitchell. At this very moment, Laura realized what caught Mr. Steele's attention.

Once the presentations were over, they resumed their conversation about the matter that was intriguing the detective.

"You know, Steele, the ceremony will be on Monday, next week. But we are worried because something dangerous may be happening, and if that's true, we must find a solution as soon as possible, because we can't stop the Oscar Ceremony," said Fairbanks.

At this point, Mr. Steele's face was a mix of heaven and hell. He couldn't believe he was talking with a Douglas Fairbanks descendant, but at the same time, his bad luck was present because work would be interfering with this kind of pleasure. It would figure that one time he touched the core of show business; a case would be shadowing his dream. And Laura was beside him, transfixed in full work mode in just a second, ready to turn the pleasant conversation into a business one.

"My infallible instincts tell me you've found the right person to help you, Mr. Fairbanks," he stated. Laura directed a look at him full of seriousness and disbelief. How could he be that insane? And with The Academy, nothing less. But she didn't have the time to say a word, while all the men at the table were speaking with Mr. Steele, telling him all about the complex situations they were suspecting.

"You know, Mr. Steele, there is a betting game behind the Academy Awards. We don't have anything to do with that. But there are some Betting Houses all around the world, speculating on the Oscar winners. A lot of money is involved. The Academy has a certain number of members, from different areas of the industry. They make their vote, and all the results are top secret. There is a company in charge of the vote that presents the envelopes with the final results the night of the ceremony. They bring them in a security truck, and nobody knows the results until the night of the ceremony itself. The problem seems to be, that one of the betting houses is taking millions for a movie that is not a favorite. And we don't know if the information would have been filtered by one member of The Academy, or if it's just luck. It would be the end of the Academy, if one film that is not the favorite to win wins, and a lot of unexpected bets are correct. It seems suspicious, as if a member filtered the information to someone, to make the money and manipulate the bets. Our confidence would be broken forever."

"What makes you think that some member of the Academy would betray the secret?" asked Mr. Steele, with his face full of curiosity. Laura was still in shock. She tried to find a gap in the conversation to put in an excuse to delay their compromise until they could assess the case with a little more knowledge about the facts. But the men at the table didn't bother to give her a chance. It was a man's business discussion, and she was there only because Mr. Steele introduced her. It wasn't important that she was introduced like an associate. They thought about her as a secretary. And secretaries only exist to receive orders, not to give opinions.

After the whole explanation was done, and a meeting was set for Monday morning, they shook hands, and the detectives returned to their table. Steele was very satisfied with the turn of events. Finally, he would be in touch with _la_ _crème de la crème_ in the film industry. But Miss Holt wasn't satisfied at all. Just as they sat down, she put her napkin on her lap after a sharp shake, and told him with an undisguised fury, "May I remind you that the decision of taking a case involves my opinion too, not only yours. Why did you do that? This is too big! We are talking about _The Academy_! We should have listened to their words, and asked for some time to make an analysis of the case before agreeing to take it! It can blow up in front of our faces!" she ended with anger.

"For Heaven's sake, Laura! Don't tell me you are not as intrigued about what is happening as I am. Just think of the publicity this would bring to the Remington Steele Agency! We can't let that opportunity slip from our hands. You know, Laura, luck doesn't knock at your door twice. You have to take the chance when you have the opportunity. And ours was today."

"I hope this case ends with success. If not, we will be out of business. And if that happens, you would have to take _your only chance_ to run away from my hands without hesitation, because if I have _only_ _one opportunity to strangle you_, be sure that I will take it." She emphasized her last words with a graphic gesture with her hands.

"That's what I love about you, Miss Holt. You always trust me." He raised his glass and had a sip of wine, trying to end their disagreement and enjoy the rest of the meal.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Monday morning started as usual, with Mildred getting everything ready, Miss Holt at the office right on time, and he… missing in action.

"Good morning Mildred. How was your weekend?" said Laura.

"Good morning Miss Holt. A busy one: bowling with the girls on Friday, a family reunion on Saturday, and Sunday trying to put some order in my closet. I'm glad it's Monday. I'm more tired today than before the weekend started. How was yours, Honey? Who won the bet?"

Laura sat on Mildred's desk, and after a brief thought, she answered, "Well…, it started on Saturday morning, playing golf with Mr. Steele, and ended on Saturday, having lunch with him. It was a draw." She paused then, and Mildred took the chance to make one of her unmistakable comments.

"It sounds like fun. But what did you do with the rest of the weekend? Maybe something that you are not ready to spread around the world yet?" as she approached Laura, waiting for her to share her supposed secret she added. "Count on me Honey, my lips are sealed."

"We spent the rest of the weekend working, Mildred. When we were having lunch at the Golf Club, Mr. Steele spied on our table neighbors. They were speaking about something that caught his attention. Then he decided to introduce himself to the gentlemen, and in a flash, we were immersed in a new case, helping the chairman of the Academy."

"What Academy?" asked Mildred showing a puzzled face.

"_THE Academy_, Mildred. Hollywood, movies, awards, you know, The Academy."

Mildred's joy was all over her face, "We are involved in a case with The Academy? The girls will not believe it! What is it about, Miss Holt?"

"It's a long story, Mildred. Why don't you bring some coffee to my office, and I'll tell you the whole story." Laura exhaled a deep sigh, took her purse, and after taking the mail with her, she left the room.

Once the whole explanation was over, Mildred was beside herself with excitement. "So, we are going to work with them just the week before to the ceremony? This would be the worst week for them," said the secretary showing a little concern.

"Why do I feel it will be the worst week for us too, Mildred?" said a worried Miss Holt. "Please tell me when Mr. Steele arrives. We have a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks at his office this afternoon, and I want to have an exchange with him before that."

"I'll buzz you, Miss Holt. Do you need anything else?"

"I don't need anything else Mildred, thank you." She had been thinking about her little outburst at the Golf Club on Saturday. She wasn't ready to apologize about every word she'd said. But maybe she was ready to give him a chance with one of the words he had said, _trust_.

Mildred ran to her desk to catch the phone. If she was right, Mr. Steele would arrive in half an hour, and Miss Holt would be occupied in her office until then. She had plenty of time to spread the news to her friends. They would not believe it! "Hello, Hazel? It's Mildred. You are not going to believe this…"

"Morning, morning, morning!"

"Good morning boss, how was your weekend?"

"Very satisfactory, Mildred, very satisfactory, indeed. Is Miss Holt in her office?" he asked.

"Yes chief. She is waiting for you."

And with all the energy that a Monday morning allowed him, he went to his office, and poked his face into Laura's office through the connecting door. "Good morning Miss Holt. Do you want to see me?"

"Yes, please come in. Have a seat." She had been thinking a lot about this talk since the day before. It was important to set the things clear before it could be too late. Once the ball started to roll, he was going to be distracted, and she probably wouldn't have the chance to catch his attention to tell him what she needed. "Look, Mr. Steele, I know it's not fair to ask you to reject the case. It's an important one, and you managed things well enough to keep the attention of Fairbanks and for him to hire us. Besides, it's a dream come true for you, to have the chance to work face to face with Hollywood's royalty. But it's a really big responsibility for the agency and for me as the one who signs off on the paperwork. So, I'm going to ask you to be cautious, to follow the rules, and most important of all, don't make any move without consulting me. We work better together as a team, and I'll respect you in this case, as the one who has the extra knowledge to follow success. You are in charge. Lead the work, but behave, and wait for my opinion before every step. Do you think you can do that?"

"Are these rules for the case only, or should I apply them in our private life too?" he asked recognizing her effort, but trying to break the ice that followed her statement. He loved to say the last word in every one of their exchanges. It made Laura crazy, and amused him.

She stared at him, and after a brief thought, answered smiling, "Lead the case, Mr. Steele. We'll talk about our private life later, glass of wine in hand." She ended her words, standing up to start their way to the meeting.

Fred drove them to Mr. Fairbanks' building, and when they arrived, there were a lot of people surrounding the entrance. They approached through the crowd, and the door was sheltered by two policemen. When they turned around, they realized that as well as common people, the street was full of journalists and photographers.

"What happened?" asked Laura to one of the photographers.

"It seems that Michael Fairbanks was killed this morning," he answered her.

Laura gave a quick glance to Mr. Steele, and then asked the nearest policeman, "Who is in charge?"

"Detective Jarvis is in charge, madam."

"Can you tell him Mr. Steele is here, and he has something urgent about Mr. Fairbanks to share with him?"

"I'll do it. Please wait outside, behind the yellow band," said the officer.

They went to the place where they were supposed to stay, and waited. After a few minutes, the officer returned and let them into the building. Another policeman guided them to the second floor, to Mr. Fairbanks' offices. Jarvis was there, talking with other detectives.

"Mr. Steele, Miss Holt. The sergeant told me you have to tell me something important. Is it related to the case?"

"Good afternoon Jarvis," said Steele. "I think we have some information that would be extremely important for your investigation. We were going to have a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks in about twenty minutes. He hired the Remington Steele Agency to investigate something that was bothering him. Maybe his suspicions were related to his dead. How was he killed?"

"Someone hit him on his head with a strong object. A statue, a golden statue."

"He was killed and the weapon was an Oscar?" asked an astonished Steele.

"You are right, Mr. Steele. What do you know that you think would help the investigation?"

Mr. Steele and Miss Holt told him about Fairbanks' suspicions. Jarvis took notes of the information, and after everything was shared, they left the building in complete silence. Neither of them knew what to say. They didn't have the chance to start to work on their case, and the one who hired them was already dead. It was ended before it got started.

Once in the limo, Laura told him, "I am very sorry. I know you were very excited about the case."

"I am very sorry too, Laura. But at the same time, I can't stop thinking about Fairbanks. I think the man wanted to tell us something different from what we talked about with him on Saturday. Maybe he had a hunch. But the murderer arrived early and silenced him."

"I do think that, too" said Laura.

"Following the leader?" he asked her, trying a wry smirk.

"While you behave, as I remember that was the deal."

He took her hand in his, and patted it twice, in a grateful gesture. They spent the rest of the travel in silence, both of them immersed in their own thoughts about the current circumstances. One of Laura's nightmares was becoming real. They were in the middle of a big case, with the client dead, and no clues at all to start. The bomb blew up right in their hands, as she suspected.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Fred dropped them at Century City, and when they arrived at the agency, Mildred told Mr. Steele that there was a package for him on his desk. They went to his office, and it was a box, a blue velvet one, like a jeweler's box. They opened it an there was a lot of tissue paper, and an envelope with his name. There was a note inside. He opened it and read it to Laura. _'You are the next one. It will be over before the ceremony. That's why I want to give you your award for your last performance. Take it to hell with you."_

"Let me see," said Laura, taking the note from his hands. While she was reading, he unwrapped the object. It was an Oscar. The second one they saw that day. Their only hope was that this one wouldn't kill anyone.

"I'm going to call Jarvis and tell him the news," said a worried Laura.

"No. Let me make the call."

Seeing that he was taking things so seriously, she said, "Ok. Call him, Mr. Steele."

After a hard day trying to figure out why Mr. Steele was a target in this case, and what relation there was between Michael Fairbanks, the murderer, and Mr. Steele, they arrived at Rossmore. Mr. Steele went to the front desk to tell the doorman to alert him if he noticed something suspicious. The man was accustomed to that kind of warning from Mr. Steele. And he was always eager to help, and to be rewarded by the generous detective.

They went upstairs, and very carefully, he put the key in the lock, looked at Laura with an uncertain glare, and turned the key with their breaths stopped and waiting for something to happen. The door opened and they went in, he in first place, trying to protect her from any danger. He turned on the light, and everything seemed to be in order. They breathed a relieved sigh neither of them knew they were holding.

Laura put the velvet box on the coffee table, and joined him relaxing on the sofa. They were exhausted, but at the same time full of anxiety. It was a strenuous combination. They stayed there for some time, until he decided they needed some food, and a deserved glass of wine. While he was getting the things ready in the kitchen, Laura opened the velvet box, and started a new check, hoping to find an answer about all this mess. There wasn't anything new in the envelope, nothing with the statue; the box was a regular one, nothing hidden between spaces, and the tissue paper was… Something caught her attention there. It wasn't a perfect white tissue. It had soft beige patches, almost imperceptible. She went to the kitchen with it, and asked Mr. Steele to light the burner.

"I'm not in the mood to cook something elaborate, Laura. You'll have to be content with a salad," he told her.

"I'm not asking you to cook anything. I think there's something written here that should appear with some heat." Raising the paper in front of his eyes, he caught her intention.

He did light the burner, and stood right behind her while she was doing her work. She was very careful, to avoid burning all the paper. After a few seconds, something started to appear. Once she thought it was all in sight, she started to read, _I see you've discovered the first clue. Congratulations! But I think you'll have to find a few more. __A murderer would never parade his crime in front of an open window. __Revenge is sweet and not fattening._

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Yes, that's all. It's our first clue. What do you think it means?" she said.

"I can´t figure out anything yet," he said. "Let's eat and we'll try it later. Help me with this."

They carried the salad and the china, and sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Instead that both of them were trying to take a break and relax for a while, neither of them could do it. Their minds were racing with the new information. After a few minutes, she said, "Ok. I can't do it. I can't eat anything. I'm too nervous."

"I can't eat anything either. Come here." He made a gesture for her to join him in the couch. "I can't stop thinking about the note. _A murderer would never parade his crime in front of an open window. __Revenge is sweet and not fattening__.'_ What does that mean? I can't take my mind off those words."

She sat beside him and put her head on his shoulders with a sigh. "Do you think we are really in danger?"

"Well, I can't remember a case starting with a client dead, and us as the next target without a clue to start, except for the Perennial case. And in that one the client was still alive until the end of it. I think dangerous would be an accurate word to describe our current situation. But we have been in danger before. My worry now is that we don't have a clue to start. And we don't have much time until the ceremony." He stopped, drank a sip of wine, and said, "You know, Laura, this situation is making me think about something."

"About what?" she asked, looking at him.

"About what you told me this morning at the office, about giving me the chance to lead the case. Do you really think I am capable of doing it? I mean, it's not an easy one. Maybe our lives are in danger, and who knows, someone else's would be too. Do you think I am capable of solving the case by being the lead on it?"

"I told you what I told you this morning at the office because I am sure you are capable. I trust in your abilities and I think I don't know anybody else with a better Hollywood knowledge than you to lead this case. Besides, even though you are leading this one, I'll be working by your side every step of it. I am sure we are going to do it, together. I trust in you, Mr. Steele." And with those last words, she looked through his eyes, and saw the gratefulness he was feeling. The kiss that followed was one of the most powerful ones that they had ever shared. It wasn't a passionate kiss. It was a loving one, a caring one, a trusting one, in which all their feelings were mixed in a perfect sensation, giving them the needed peace to confront whatever would follow. They spent the night there, in front of the fireplace, sharing a needed embrace. It was enough for them, given the circumstances. They felt safe in each other's arms, until the first lights of the morning brought them back to the complex reality they were immersed in. She awoke alone on the couch, with a blanket covering her. He wasn't there.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

"Am I smelling coffee?" asked a sleepy Laura, entering the kitchen. He was making breakfast, and was occupied with the preparations in front of the stove.

"In fact, my clever detective, you are smelling coffee, French toast, eggs, and bacon. We are going to have a very nutritious breakfast, to start the day with all the needed energy," he told her in an optimistic way.

She noticed his good mood in the early morning, something that wasn't usual. "Did you figure out something last night that you want to share?" she asked with suspicion.

"You are a clever detective, Laura. Actually, yes I did. Remember I was thinking about the note? Well, the first part of the note is a line from a movie."

"And I'm sure you know what movie that line is from…"

"It's from _Rear Window_, James Stewart, Grace Kelly, Paramount, 1954. "

"And the second part?" she asked him.

"The second one is a quote from Alfred Hitchcock. I've found it in that Hitchcock book." He pointed to her the one on the counter. "I think we are on to something, Miss Holt. Let's have breakfast, and after a good and refreshing shower, we are going to the office to start with our detective day."

"But, it's 6:15 in the morning. Don't you think it's a little early for you to be at the office?" Laura asked a bit surprised.

"Not at all, Miss Holt, the boss is the one who has to give the example to the employees. As I am the boss, _and_ I am in charge this time, and you seem to be…"

"Your employee?" asked a bemused Laura.

"What are you saying, Laura? You are the boss' favorite associate, who would be early at the office with him. Just think about the delightful surprise we are going to give Mildred. Eat your breakfast, Miss Holt."

"Good morning Mildred!" their voices sounded in unison.

"Good morning Miss Holt…Chief! What are you doing here so early in the morning?" asked a surprised Mildred. But after a brief thought, she deduced why they were arriving very early, and together. _The day before, they had decided to go to his place, because it seemed safer than the loft... They must have spent the whole night trying to figure out something about the case. He was impeccable with his tailored suit and his white shirt, but Miss Holt wasn't neat as always. She was wearing almost the same clothes as the day before, instead of a change in minor details, _thought Mildred to herself.

They walked straight to his office, and after a few minutes, and a cup of coffee at hand, they were in the middle of a brainstorming session, trying to put the pieces of this puzzle together. "I think we have two things to start: a quote from _Rear Window, _and a quote from Alfred Hitchcock himself. The movie was the story of a wheelchair bound photographer, who spies on his neighbors from his apartment window and becomes convinced one of them has committed murder. And the quote itself must be something our murderer enjoys to show, the same as Hitchcock did: his brilliance," he said.

"Why do you think he chose this movie?" asked Laura.

"I think it has something to do with the crime scene. He wants us following his game. Maybe we should go to Fairbanks' office to check about that."

They arrived at Fairbanks' building after a brief call to Jarvis, asking for permission to enter the office. Once they were in the place itself, each one started their own search for clues. Laura had her eyes glued to the wall, and Mr. Steele was looking through the window, changing angles from every part of the room. He couldn't find anything, except another building on the other side of the street. They should investigate the office's occupants there. But just when he thought that, and was ready to suggest Laura to leave the office, he found her very concentrated, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall. There were a lot of them, showing a proud Fairbanks receiving different awards and shaking hands with all the royalty of Hollywood. "I wish I could recognize some of these faces," she said still thinking.

"I think they are all from show business, but not from the glamorous show side. They must be from the business part. Don't forget, our friend Fairbanks was a recognized film producer. His work was mostly behind the cameras, and behind the movies themselves, perhaps," said Steele. "I think we should go visit the building across the street, and maybe we should ask Fairbanks' secretary for a list of people who are in those pictures to send it to the office, to Mildred. She could run a search about them. What do you think?"

"You are right. Let's go," answered Laura.

They crossed the street, and spent a moment in the building's lobby, reading the advertising of all the companies with office space there. Steele was standing behind Miss Holt. Nothing caught their attention until they saw one name, and looking almost at the same time to themselves, they repeated, "Selznick!"

Then Steele looked at Laura with surprise. "Do you know who Selznick is?"

"Of course I know who Selznick is. He was the producer of '_Gone with the Wind',_ do you remember I told you I love that movie?" she told him with a dreamy face.

"I certainly remember the times we spoke about that movie, Miss Holt. Three times for sure, I certainly remember. Once, when I had amnesia, in that shed in Ireland…; another one when you promised me the entire MGM library, during the Lester Shane case…, and another ending the same case, when we both decided to not pay attention to the screen and focus on our own _not giving a dam moment_. I can say I remember vividly every second of our _talks_ about that movie." He finished smiling at her and wiggling his eyebrows.

She hit him softly with her elbow in his ribs. "Focus on the case, Mr. Steele," she said blushing and trying to hide her smile from him. "Mildred will be very busy for the rest of the day."

"Are you going to tell her about _our Gone with the Wind_?" asked an amused Steele.

"Are you out of your mind? If I open my mouth about our…that movie, she would not be able to have anything done during the whole day. Her mind would be occupied on another tasks, you know…"

"I think I will not be able to concentrate on other things too, Miss Holt…" he told her with the pleasure of the reminder plastered on his face.

"Behave yourself, Mr. Steele. Remember you are in charge."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

They returned to the office, and the list of the pictures was on Mr. Steele's desk among other things… There was a new velvet box delivered to them this morning. Just when they were ready to open it, Mildred came into the office in a rush, interrupting them. "Mr. Steele, Miss Holt, wait!"

"What, Mildred? What is it?" asked Laura.

"Don't open the box. I have a bad feeling about it! I was watching a movie last night, and I think it could be a signal," answered the secretary.

"What movie?" asked a bemused Mr. Steele.

"_'__The Postman Always Rings Twice_, Jack Nicholson, Jessica Lange, MGM, 1981.'"

"Splendid, Mildred! Great choice! But I really love the original version of the movie, with Lana Turner and John Garfield, the 1946 one. The new version is another remake of a film noir. Why Mildred! I thought your good taste was limited to literature…" He said giving her an accomplice look.

"Why do you think it would be a signal Mildred?" asked Laura, rolling her eyes and trying to get out of that hot film conversation Mr. Steele and the secretary were immersed in, and at the same time trying to know why Mildred was trying to stop them.

"Because Chief, Miss Holt, think about the movie title: '_The postman always rings twice'_. This is the second ring we have with this kind of delivery. And on the other hand, the movie plot runs on the line of planning a murder, the very same thing that's happening here in the mind of the one sending those boxes."

They stood there perplexed. It seemed that Mildred was several steps ahead of them elaborating theories. She could be right this time. The box could be a trap.

"Call Jarvis, Mildred," said Mr. Steele.

Mildred did as she was told. The Bomb Squadron came to the office, and after some hours of hard and dangerous work, they disabled the device. The blasting cap was in the top of the box. If they had opened it, the whole office would be ashes at this very time. The note was resting under the statue. Mr. Steele took the Oscar, and gave the paper to Miss Holt. "_'I can see you are as good as everybody says. But we are still in the game. __I'm sure anyone likes a good crime, provided they are not the victim. __Patience is a virtue. So is breathing, Mr. Steele. Enjoy your last breaths, detective."_ Laura finished reading and stared at the paper in silence. There seemed to be lesser clues than in the first message. She couldn't catch anything. Realizing that, she gave him the note. He stared at it with the same detailed attention he put in opening a safe.

"You are not his target," said a thoughtful Steele. "He is after me."

"Why do you think that?" asked Laura.

"Because he knows you are the brains here, Miss Holt. He knows you are the one qualified to discover the crime, because you are intelligent, trained, and you love to unlock mysteries and good crimes. You are not the victim or target. I am."

Mildred, who was still there paying attention to the news, playing as a real detective after her correct deduction in the morning, heard the printer starting to work, and ran to her desk to catch the new information. It was the list they were expecting, about the opposite building's owner. Mildred gave it to Miss Holt, and she read it carefully. It was an old building, from 1918, and every floor was entirely occupied by only one company. They would have to study the new note, and try to discover if it was linked with any of the information they already had. They spent a long time doing it. The third round of coffee offered by Mildred told them that it was getting late, and the tiredness in everyone was starting to show. After a brief discussion, they sent the secretary home, and the two of them decided to have a quick dinner on the way home. She would pick up some of her needed toiletries at her place, and spend the night at Rossmore. Again, it felt safer than Laura's loft.

They decided to take advantage of the freshness of the night, and went to Malibu's Pier, to eat simple hot dogs as dinner, while taking a stroll. There were a lot of people there enjoying the beautiful night, and it really helped to improve their moods. They were walking leisurely along the pier, she wearing his coat, he with his hand on her back.

"Why do you think this happens to us, Laura? Every time we are enjoying our time together, one of us is eager to add another kind of excitation to the equation. We can't stay quiet and relaxed, the two of us alone. Why do we always call somebody or something to interfere?" he asked.

"I don't know." She answered. "Maybe we need to improve our dedication to the relationship itself. When we are spending some time together, we are together, but at the same time, we are keeping too much attention to the world surrounding us, always trying not to miss anything. Maybe that is our big mistake. We are missing the focus on the most important thing: us."

"Do you think is possible for us to change that?" he asked.

"I think everything is possible Mr. Steele. You are in charge and I am behaving. That's a twist! And we are having a talk about us, and Mildred didn't interrupt us yet. Maybe it is a beginning."

"I like your way of thinking, Miss Holt," he told her drawing her to him and kissing her hair.

"I'm glad you suggested this place for tonight. It's very nice," she told him.

He stopped, put his arms on her back, and pulling her to him told her, "Trust in me, Laura. I'm a man with taste!"

"You really are a man with taste, Mr. Steele. _You've got taste in clothes, taste in food_…" She was feeling him getting closer after every one of her words.

He raised an eyebrow and completed her phrase, "_Hmm, and taste in women_." He told her just inches from her lips. "_I like your flavor, Laura_."

"_North by Northwest, Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, MGM, 1959_." She whispered him.

He smiled at her, and met her lips, savoring the promise of a future together, beyond their own fears and weaknesses.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

On the way to Rossmore, they felt much more relaxed than when they left the office. Before entering his apartment, they went through the same routines as the night before, and once all the possible dangers were discarded, they collapsed on the couch, taking off their shoes just as quickly as possible; and feeling so exhausted, that the mere thought of the lowest activity sounded like hell. "You take the bed tonight, Laura. I'll stay on the couch," said gentlemanly Mr. Steele.

"I think we both need a bed tonight. Just promise to behave yourself, and we have a deal."

"I don't think I have the strength to try anything tonight, Laura. I can't even think I'd make it to the bed, indeed," he answered to her.

"I think I'll have a shower. Sounds as an impossible challenge right now, but I know I will be grateful after the effort." Taking her bag, she went to the bathroom to start her sacrifice.

He sat there on the couch, looking through nothing for a while, and after a few minutes, and realizing that he wasn't going to make it through the wait until Laura's shower end; he stood up and turned on the TV. Maybe a good movie would help him to find some energy. He didn't want to fall asleep until she did. He started a search through the channels, until he found a classic. _North by Norwest _was on the screen. It felt like a coincidence. Cary Grant would help to relax his mind, at least to wait for Laura with his eyes opened. He was trying to mentally quote the movie, but then stopped at some point, when he heard the word 'virtue'. It was the quote! It was a Hitchcock movie! Jumping from the sofa, he ran to the bedroom, and stopped almost crashing against Laura, who was leaving the bathroom wearing his robe and a towel in her hair. "I've found something Laura!"

"What? What did you find?"

"_North by Northwest; Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, MGM, 1959_. The quote is from that movie."

"Where is the note?" she asked.

"I left the box in the dining room, on the table, beside the other one," answered Steele.

"Let me get dressed, and I'll be there in a minute." said Laura, and grabbing her bag she ran into the bathroom again.

They met at the dining room, and once their eyes were on the note over the table, he told her, "Here, this is it._ Patience is a virtue. So is breathing. _It was a dialogue between Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint. This is the movie, another Hitchcock one. A hapless New York advertising executive is mistaken for a government agent by a group of foreign spies, and is pursued across the country while he looks for a way to survive."

"Do you find any relation with the things we have?"

"I can't think about anything right now. But it's a start." He looked at her with hope.

"It's a start," she answered. "Why don't we follow with our original plan and have some rest so we can start tomorrow with more energy?"

And without saying a word, he showed her the way with his hand, "After you, Miss Holt."

They went to bed, and after a soft goodnight kiss, he turned off the light and embraced her, only to feel the reminder that they were together. The sensation was like a lullaby for him, and after a couple of minutes, his breathing found another rhythm. He was deep asleep.

The shower had done wonders for her body. Laura found a new dose of energy she didn't know she had. Once she heard him fall into a deep sleep, she relaxed, and without getting out of the bed, or even making a move out of his embrace, she put her mind in overdrive, trying to figure out a relation between all the clues they had at hand. In first place, she set her mind at the beginning of the case: the Golf Club. They were at that table with Fairbanks and some of his friends. They spoke about a suspected trap with bets. They settled a meeting with Mr. Fairbanks. They arrived to the meeting but he was dead. The weapon was an Oscar. Jarvis was in charge of the investigation. They received the first box at the office. They found the message hidden in the tissue. There was a movie quote there, from a Hitchcock movie. They went to Fairbanks' office. She kept her eyes distracted at the wall full of pictures. They went to the other building. The name Selznick was there. Gone with the Wind was the movie this time. They received the second box. Mildred stopped them from opening it. She spoke about another movie then. Not a Hitchcock one. There was a bomb inside the box. The note was about another Hitchcock movie. The words that popped up more than once were: movie, box, Oscar, Hitchcock, Fairbanks, note. The key to open the end of the case was supposed to be there. But she was exhausted, and losing her battle against her tired body. With all these words floating in her mind, she followed him falling asleep. The feeling of his caring arms around her was the last push to send her to explore dreamland.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

The stimulating coffee smell awoke all the sensitive neurons in her brain. Opening her eyes, she knew she was alone again. He was up making breakfast, the same as the day before. She went to the bathroom, poured some water over her face, brushed her teeth, and went to meet him in the kitchen. "Hi! You woke up early again! Now that you are in charge, you seem to be picking up my habit of waking early…" But he wasn't there. "Mr. Steele? Where are you?" She peered through the kitchen door, but he wasn't there. She noticed there were now three boxes on the counter. "Mr. Steele, please don't…" she begged to herself. She approached the boxes, and beside the new one, there was a note. His note. She took it in her shaking hands, and read it_: Laura: I found the box at the door this morning. As I told you yesterday, I am the target, but you are the one capable of disentangling this mess. The last thing I want is to put you in danger because of me. I know we work better together, but this time I am in charge. I have the decision. We'll work together, but from separate fields. You will know about me. I promise. At last, I have something I have to confess: I have your golf glove, Miss Holt. I have it with me. I took it while you were studying your last shot. It was my last chance to have a date with you that night. Sorry for that. I'll return it to you at our pending dinner. Promise me we still have a date. Take care. Steele."_

"You didn't have to do that," she sadly whispered to herself. "We still have a date, Mr. Steele. I promise." She took the note from the box, and read it: "He_ looked exactly the same when he was alive, only he was vertical. The picture's over. Now I have to go and put it on film."_

It looked just like a death sentence. That was why he left. He didn't want her near him. He didn't want her in danger being at his side. He wanted her resolving the case, but safe. He cared about her. She reclined herself on the counter, and a tear threatened to run down. She took a deep breath, "Just behave, Laura. He is in charge and he asked you to stay focused." She would do it. They would do it through this mess.

The morning at the office started the same as every day. Mildred was already there when Miss Holt arrived. "Good morning, Mildred," said a distracted Miss Holt walking directly to her office. She closed the door just behind her.

"This is not a good start," thought Mildred, noticing that something was missing. Not something, but someone. Mr. Steele didn't arrive with Miss Holt. They were supposed to be together, just for precaution. On the other hand, Miss Holt's face was different from the day before. She looked worried, but at the same time she looked tired and sad. Mildred didn't waste a minute, and went to her office to ask her about Mr. Steele's whereabouts. She knocked but didn't receive an answer. After waiting for a moment she opened the door, but Laura wasn't there. The connecting door was opened, and Miss Holt was at his desk, staring at all the papers sprawled through the desktop. "Miss Holt, Laura, why did you arrive alone? Where is the boss? You two were supposed to be together. Did anything happen last night?"

Laura lifted up her eyes from the papers to the secretary, and trying to find some strength, she told her about the note. "Another box arrived this morning, Mildred. But this time, to Mr. Steele's home. I stayed there last night, just because it felt safer than the loft. He woke up earlier than me this morning, found the box, and read the message. Then he decided to leave. He left a note telling me that he was the target, and that he didn't want to put me in danger. He left but told me to stay focused on the case, and that with both of us working together, but from separate fields; we would arrive to a good end in all this mess."

"Well, he must have a good reason to do what he did, Miss Holt. You know that I am here with you for whatever you need. I'll bring you your coffee and we will be ready to start our work with all these papers."

"I know that, Mildred. Thank you."

Mildred left the room leaving a thoughtful Laura staring at the message she had in her hand. It was the last one. She put it on the files, and with a sigh, she went to her office to put her coat on the hanger, and to get ready to start the day. They didn't have any time to lose. They had a lot of things to work with.

Mr. Steele reclined on his sofa, waiting for the movie to start. He didn't ever leave Rossmore. He was hidden on the balcony until she left the place. He saw her when she woke up, and saw her back when she was in the kitchen reading the note. At some point, he feared she would be angry with him. It was the second time that he was leaving her after promising not to do that. She wasn't angry. She was resigned. But the plan worked as he thought. After a brief moment, Laura stood up from the chair and walked to the bedroom with decision. This was the Laura he was expecting to see. He didn't think that he would be grateful to see her in a professional mood under this pressure, and leaving him behind her. But he was.

His next step would be to find the movie quoted in the last message. He was thinking about _The Trouble with Harry. _He didn't have a copy of this one, but after a brief call to the video store, the movie was delivered and he was ready to start it. It was another Hitchcock movie, but almost a black comedy this time. The TV screen showed the titles, and all his attention was there, on the case.

Laura was reading the files Mildred brought from the printer the day before. She was working with the list about the building owners. Every floor was occupied by a different company. For the second time, the name Selznick took her attention. She remembered with a smile the funny chat they shared the day before, about _'Gone with the Wind', _and about Mildred's thoughts, and how peculiar life was, because this time Mildred was the one in front of her, and he wasn't. But needing to return to her task, she asked the secretary to investigate this name. Maybe David O. Selznick was the key to resolve the case. Mildred did as she was told, and in half an hour she had a complete report about the man. He was a Hollywood producer, and he worked with some of Alfred Hitchcock's films. They didn't get along together, and after one of their movies, Selznick won an Oscar from a Hitchcock movie, for best movie, but he got all the credit, and Hitchcock ended with his hands empty. This situation, among others, ended their association. But several years later, they made more films together. It seemed that they were on good terms again.

Maybe it was the time to make a visit to Selznick Productions, thought Laura. "Mildred, I'm going to make a visit to this company. Hold down the fort until I'm back. Maybe Mr. Steele will send a message at any point. And please, be careful."

"It's ok, Miss Holt. I'll call you in the limo if I have any news to share."

She arrived at the building and went directly to the company's floor. Once there she asked for the director. It was Samuel Selznick, David's son. After she made the explanations to the secretary, and mentioned the name of Fairbanks, the woman announced her. He received her at his office, and after she explained as fast as she could, why she was there, he put himself at her disposition. Mr. Selznick told her that the association of his father with Hitchcock was a difficult one. They had their ups and downs, but they finally made a lot of films together. He told her he had the impression that Hitchcock never forgave his father, for winning the Academy Award for best movie instead of him. He felt his movies were his masterpieces, and was very possessive over them. They talked for some time about other matters that didn't seem relevant to Miss. Holt.

Once the visit was over, Laura returned to the office. She ordered Mildred to run a search about Alfred Hitchcock. It was the name that was popping up every step of the way, after all. She wanted to know everything about that mystery man.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

Mr. Steele was in the middle of the movie when he found the quote. He knew after the start that it was the correct movie. And he discovered something else there. The filmdid contain the transference of guilt theme, and the guilt bounced all over the main players. A small gem of a film that often gets overlooked. Fairbanks' murderer was doing all these things to show someone as guilty. Someone that he thought had damaged Hitchcock in some way. He was making them work following Hitchcock movies quotes. They weren't the real targets. They were the characters in this murderer's movie. The word revenge was in the last message, and if they didn't work quickly, somebody was going to be dead soon. He had to call Laura at the office.

Miss Holt was reading the file Mildred gave her. It was a full resume about the king of the mystery. Two things were keeping her attention at first sight. The names Selznick and Fairbanks were there: Selznick as a producer, and Douglas Fairbanks as the United Artists founder. She was mentally tying the knots, when Mildred told her Mr. Steele was on the phone. She almost jumped to answer the call. "Hello? Where are you? Are you ok?"

"I'm ok, Laura. I found something about the case. I am not the target. We are playing characters here, Laura. It's all about Hitchcock and his movies. The murderer thinks Hitchcock was damaged in some way, and is trying to make someone pay for his supposed guilt."

"I think I know who the target could be, Mr. Steele," said an encouraged Laura. "I've been at Selznick's office this morning, and he told me his father and Hitchcock had a very difficult relationship when they worked together and that the director never really forgave him for winning the Oscar instead of him."

"Why don't you come here and we can go to Selznick's office together?" she said just wanting to feel him beside her.

"Let's meet at Selznick's office, Laura. There's no time."

She tried to convince him to go to the place together without success.

"Let me do the tactical thinking this time, Miss Holt. I'm in charge in this case. Do you remember?" he told her. He knew he was closer to Szelnick's office than Laura. Being there in their separate ways would give him the chance to arrive first, and maybe find the murderer without putting her under more risk than was necessary.

"I remember," she said with a smile. "Meet you there. Please, take care…", but she noticed she was alone on the phone.

Selznick was on his way out of the office when the door opened. "Hello Samuel. Nice to meet you again," said the man, showing him the gun.

"Porter! What are you doing here?" asked Selznick. He saw the gun, and took two steps back."Lot of years passed and you are still thinking about it?"He asked...

.

"Several years, and it's still the same. You didn't understand, they didn't understand…They will never recognize him as the genius he was. They never gave him an Oscar, never an acknowledgment. They gave him that honorary Irving Thalberg award just to make the public think he won something, but the Studios never liked him. The producers never liked him. He was the genius behind the camera! Someone will have to pay for this omission. Fairbanks was the first one to die in payment for that. You will be the second."

"Why don't you put down the gun and we could talk. I know you don't want to do this, Porter."

At that moment, Steele, who had arrived and found the secretary lying on the floor, walked through the opened door very carefully, without making a sound. Selsznick saw him, and kept quiet, trying to not disgust Porter.

"You are wrong, Selsznick. I am doing this, and with pleasure._There is no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it, _said Mr. Hitchcock, once_. _I'm enjoying your fear." Once Steele saw the situation was under his control, he put his arm around Porter's neck, and surprising him, he removed the gun from his hand.

At that very moment Laura arrived, and watching the situation, she asked to her associate, "Should I call the Police, Mr. Steele?"

"Call Inspector Jarvis, Miss Holt." I think our character has just ended his performance in this movie."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

They were ending their dinner at Mr. Steele's apartment. The Academy Awards Ceremony was going to be on Monday night, and they were honored with special invitations to the show. But after the stressing work they'd done to save Mr. Selznick from his murderer they declined the invitation. They witnessed the ugly face of the business. After a whole week dealing with this case, and the weekend ahead of them, they decided they would watch the show from Mr. Steele's couch. Show must go on, but they decided to enjoy it from their private location.

They were lying in front of the fireplace after a delicious meal, glass of wine at hand, enjoying the peaceful moment they were sharing.

"Why do you think Porter killed Fairbanks in the first place?" Laura finally asked.

"I think he did it because he embodied the heir of one of the owners of the old Hollywood." Porter thought he was one of the ones responsible about Hitchcock's fate," he told her, and taking advantage of the moment, he moved to be closer to her.

"Why do you think he involved you in his scheme? He saw you only once, last Saturday, at that table at the Golf Club," she asked.

"Well, when he saw Fairbanks trusting in Remington Steele, maybe Porter thought that the next day Michael would tell me something about the past, that would in a way incriminate him in the murder he was planning. He worked for Fairbanks for a couple of years, until their working relationship was overshadowed by his madness about Hitchcock," he answered.

"And what was this last quote about? I didn´t know that movie."

"It was from _The Trouble with Harry._ Not a typical Hitchcock movie. He chose that one because it wasn't a classic. He loved all his work. Even the non classical pieces, "he said.

"About your note, I want to ask you something," said Laura, trying to hide a slight smile. "In that message of yours, did you say something about my golf glove?"

"Well, just in case it would be my last chance to give you a message for a while, I wanted you to know that you won the bet. I did that on purpose, to put you out of your focus on your last shot. I have the need to have dinner with you every night lately," he told her.

"Well, I have to say that I agree with you in that need of yours," she said showing him a promising smile. "But, on the other hand, that confession of yours means that I was the winner of that game. Does it?"

"Mm…yes, it could be," he answered.

"And that means that you owe me a tennis match, does it?"

"Well I think you'd be right, Miss Holt," he answered her with a defeated look.

"I have my racket in the Rabbit," she assured him arching her eyebrows.

"Do you want to play tennis after dinner, Laura?" he said almost horrified at the thought.

"Not after dinner, but maybe tomorrow, if you are not very tired after my project for tonight…" and she made a suggestive gesture to him.

"After your project for tonight…" he said almost not believing what she was saying. "I don't think I would be tired at all, Miss Holt".

"Ok. Let's start with the paperwork of the case, and we'll be free early in the evening to have a good rest, and ready to focus on the game tomorrow with a lot of energy. I left all the files we'll need on the floor, beside the entrance table."

"You are so wicked, Miss Holt," he told her in a sarcastic tone.

"But I'm in charge again, Mr. Steele."

"Indeed, Miss Holt, indeed."

They were both smiling like Academy Award winners when their kiss started. The real award they were sharing was not like a cold golden statue. It was a lot warmer and much more real than that!


End file.
